<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I Promise You There's More by trekkiepirate</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726619">I Promise You There's More</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/trekkiepirate/pseuds/trekkiepirate'>trekkiepirate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>An Unexpected Song [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dadskier, F/M, M/M, Original Asexual Female Character, THE ANSWER PROBABLY DOESN'T SURPRISE YOU ANYMORE, THIS GOT A LOT ANGSTY THAN IT WAS GONNA BE, brief reference to suicide, but it starts and ends happy and fluffy, how many fics can Beth use TAD to title, unbetaed we die like Renfri</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:08:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,869</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726619</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/trekkiepirate/pseuds/trekkiepirate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The peace of the courtyard was broken by the arrival of a woman striding purposely and smelling so strongly of anger that Geralt nearly stumbled back.</p><p>“JASKIER!”</p><p>The bard in question jumped a bit where he was sitting on a bench with Geralt; his baby daughter in his arms cooed and reached up for her mama.</p><p>Marlia bent to collect the infant and after a quick cuddle and kiss deposited her into Geralt’s arms. “You need to write a song,” she said, fist tight in Jaskier’s sleeve. She was already attempting to drag him behind her, despite the four inches of height and two stones of weight he had on her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel/Original Female Character, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>An Unexpected Song [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751314</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Catch The Bard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yeah this is definitely a bit more angsty (I didn't even know Jaskier had family issues until I got to that part and he started freaking out and Geralt was like 'what do?' I DON'T KNOW GERALT THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN) but I promise you there is fluff and sweetness and love all throughout.</p><p>Rating is for some descriptions of sexual acts and some swearing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The peace of the courtyard was broken by the arrival of a woman striding purposely and smelling so strongly of anger that Geralt nearly stumbled back.</p><p>“JASKIER!”</p><p>The bard in question jumped a bit where he was sitting on a bench with Geralt; his baby daughter in his arms cooed and reached up for her mama.</p><p>Marlia bent to collect the infant and after a quick cuddle and kiss deposited her into Geralt’s arms. “You need to write a song,” she said, fist tight in Jaskier’s sleeve. She was already attempting to drag him behind her, despite the nearly five inches of height and two stones of weight he had on her.</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Jaskier said, realizing quickly he wouldn’t shift her grasp on his doublet, so he twisted his way out of it.</p><p>Geralt bounced Melody on his knee and admired his fiancé’s chemise-clad form.</p><p>Marlia was advancing and Jaskier, with his usual lack of grace, was backing away from the danger. “A song, bard! You have to write a song. No, several. You will probably need to write several songs!”</p><p>Geralt watched Marlia chase the retreating Jaskier in circles for a moment. He looked down at the baby girl gumming at her own fist. “Well you’re going to grow up to be a terror if your parents are like this as full-grown adults.”</p><p>Eskel came jogging up and sighed when he saw the spectacle. “Dammit. It’s my fault.”</p><p>“How is it your fault that your beloved is chasing mine around the room?”</p><p>“Ah,” Eskel ran a hand over his face. “So, Marlia and I were… talking.”</p><p>“Fucking.”</p><p>Eskel’s face hardened. “If you weren’t holding the babe, you’d be on the floor now, Geralt. Marlia is…” he sighed dreamily as he watched the woman he loved still running after Jaskier, entreating him for music, “she’s special. Not someone to tumble with and forget. The only man she’s ever known was the very idiot-“</p><p>Geralt would normally growl at the insult, but since Eskel took such offense to the crude way he spoke of his relationship with Marlia, Geralt let it slide.</p><p>“-she’s got into her head needs to write a song about me.”</p><p>“Say that again?” Geralt raised his eyebrow.</p><p>Eskel didn’t scuff his boots on the ground but it was a near thing. “We were… close. Kissing, just kissing. And she called me handsome,” Eskel shrugged as if confused, “don’t know why. I told her not only was I not handsome, but that I’m widely regarded as being quite ugly. I know my face is too scarred and square to be considered handsome. It doesn’t bother me.”</p><p>Geralt nodded at where she had cornered Jaskier, the bard making frantic eyes over Marlia’s shoulder at Geralt. Demanding a rescue. “It seems to bother her.”</p><p>Jaskier made a break for it, but Marlia was quick and caught him by the back of his fastened chemise. Still struggling, she dragged him over to where the Witchers sat watching, all but tossing him towards Eskel.</p><p>“Write a song about how handsome Eskel is!” she demanded.</p><p>Jaskier, still rubbing the back of his neck where he’d been scruffed like a puppy (that move was for Geralt and Geralt alone, though if he’d known Marlia could have that kind of strength, their one night together might have lasted a few more). “I’m sorry, that’s what this was all about?” He looked at Eskel, then Marlia, then to Geralt. “You could have just said so instead of acting like a raging…”</p><p>“Don’t finish that sentence, Jaskier,” Geralt warned. “I’ve just gotten access to your cock; I’d like to not have to go retrieve it from the bottom of the mountain.”</p><p>Jaskier’s mouth worked as he decided which indignity he was going to address first.</p><p>Marlia pushed her hair back out of her face. “Eskel told me everyone thinks he’s ugly,” she spoke as if the very word itself were there to be spat at. “That cannot stand! You’ve written, what, fifty seven songs about how brave and handsome and heroic your Witcher is.”</p><p>“More than fifty seven,” Jaskier muttered.</p><p>“Write some about my Witcher-“</p><p>Eskel preened a little beside Geralt.</p><p>“-so everyone will see that he is the most handsome man alive. Otherwise, I will be forced to go around and stab everyone on The Continent who has ever dared say such… cruel and untrue things to him. I haven’t the time or my daggers anymore.”</p><p>Geralt regarded Marlia for a moment.</p><p>Yennefer had been hired to locate the true father of Marlia’s babe, which turned out (in a twisted bit of Destiny) to be Jaskier. They’d been attacked by Niilfgardian soldiers, bent on killing everyone with ties to the Cintran throne, even the Prince Consort’s niece. Marlia had drawn daggers and told Yennefer to take the child and run, but Yennefer had saved both of them.</p><p>Marlia looked like the noblewoman she was, pretty smiles and kind eyes. But when she deemed it necessary, she was just as fierce as her battle-hardened uncle.</p><p>No wonder Jaskier had been attracted to her; the noble with a feral side. She was him in female form.</p><p>“You have to write the song, Jaskier. People listen to you,” Marlia had a fist twisted in his shirt again.</p><p>“If you would let go, I could fetch my lute and get right on this,” Jaskier was trying to unclench her hand.</p><p>Marlia all but snarled. “No, I wanna hear lyrics first. If I let you go, Geralt will go with you and you two will get distracted with sex and the song won’t get written. And it best be a jig, something people can all sing along to. I want to hear voices raised in praise of Eskel, the way they praise Geralt.”</p><p>Eskel was trying to separate the two. “Dearest, let the boy go.”</p><p>Once free of Marlia’s grasp, Jaskier preened at still being called a boy and Geralt rolled his eyes. “You’re 42, calm down.”</p><p>“Let me have my joy where I can, this day has become bizarre,” Jaskier pleaded, laying his face against Geralt’s sleeve. He reached out for Melody, but she was swiftly taken out of Geralt’s arms by Marlia.</p><p>“No!” Marlia curled around Melody’s tiny body. “You can play with your daughter once the song is finished. Maybe not til two or three are done.” She kissed the baby and strode away.</p><p>Eskel followed her, shrugging.</p><p>Jaskier turned offended eyes to Geralt. “She just… why did… she took… what has just happened here? Did I hit my head and this is a very weird dream?”</p><p>Geralt dropped his shoulders and began to laugh so hard he fell to his knee.</p><p>“And now you laugh at me!” Jaskier was working up to a full strop. “Now, when I have- when I have just- my honour- my daughter-“</p><p>Geralt rose and embraced Jaskier, waiting for his gesturing arms to settle around him. “Jaskier. Jaskier,” he cooed so the other man would calm down. “You can write a simple song for Marlia and she will be appeased.”</p><p>“But,” Jaskier lifted his face, eyes even bigger than usual, “she used our daughter against me. I can’t play with Melody until I write a song? Like I, Like I’m, Like she’s just a-“ he pulled back and flung his arms wide.</p><p>Geralt paused. This was not a usual Jaskier tirade. This wasn’t just offended faces and flailing limbs. Something was hurting Jaskier, down through the smiles and winks to the softest part of him. “Jaskier?”</p><p>The bard’s head dropped, but Geralt could smell the salt of the tear sliding down his face. “She’s using my child like a bargaining chip to get what she wants from me.”</p><p>Arms going back around Jaskier, Geralt held him close and let him build up to his next words.</p><p>“She’s using Melody like my mother used me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Geralt Is The Emotionally Mature One (I Know, I'm Surprised too)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jaskier has family issues. Some are similar to but legally distinct to my own issues concerning a philandering father. Pay no attention to the psyche behind the curtain.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt pulled back to meet Jaskier’s eyes, lifting his chin with his finger when Jaskier kept his face down. He said nothing, but knew Jaskier could see the question in his eyes. If anyone was fluent in Geralt’s silent methods of communication, it was his bard.</p><p>“When she wanted something, jewelry or new frocks, my mother would tell my father he couldn’t see me until he’d given her what she wanted. And he did. Whatever luxury was traded for spending time with me. Teaching me poetry and how to fish.” Jaskier raised his face, eyes as sad and haunted as Geralt had ever seen them. “I was eight years old when it stopped working.”</p><p>For years his desire to keep Jaskier at arm’s length, which he deemed was the safest place for the bard, meant Geralt had never really asked about Jaskier’s family. To be fair, information was rarely offered.</p><p>“Jaskier?”</p><p>He swallowed a few times but finally Jaskier began to speak again. “It stopped working because my father became too vexed at her and found a mistress. A few mistresses throughout the years. When I was eight, my sister was born. Then another sister when I was ten.” Jaskier sat down on the bench and bent over, putting his face in his hands. “He never really spoke to me again. Not really. Mother couldn’t use me as a bargaining tool so she too ignored me for the most part.”</p><p>Geralt placed a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder, feeling it shake but offering no comment.</p><p>“I never wanted to be like him, my father.” Jaskier shook his head. “I never wanted to be a father at all. But now that I am, I just,” he sat up, blue eyes wet with tears he was trying to hold back. “How can you stop loving your child? I’ve only known of Melody for a couple months and I would murder the world for her. For Cirilla too. I would lay down my life without a second thought and think it still too little a sacrifice for their happiness.”</p><p>Geralt embraced Jaskier. “I know. Me too.”</p><p>Jaskier’s defences crumpled and Geralt didn’t care how long they sat there. He let his beloved cry all he needed to. Geralt had never seen Jaskier cry before. Even when staring death in the face during the djinn attack, Jaskier hadn’t let any tears fall.</p><p>Sniffling and ruining his sleeve by wiping his face with it, Jaskier looked at Geralt. “Maybe we… maybe we shouldn’t.”</p><p>“Shouldn’t what?”</p><p>Jaskier dropped his eyes to Geralt’s right boot. “If I’m to become my father, I’ll just… I’ll just wake up and hate you one day. My parents loved each other when they married, my uncle said. But they still ended up with hate. I won’t want to, but I will. And I’ll find someone else, probably lots of someone elses. I’ll ruin us, Geralt. I couldn’t bear it if I made my vows to you and then later I fucked other people because I’m… weak. You know how weak I am; you’ve said it often enough. ‘A debauched tomcat unable to control himself' were the exact words, I believe.”</p><p>A whiff of genuine anger came with that statement and Geralt again cursed himself for all the years he spent being mean to Jaskier in an attempt to keep him away. He was never safe at Geralt’s side, not from monsters or bigoted townspeople who called him a ‘Witcher’s whore’. Geralt had to stop himself every time those muttered words entered his ears because he couldn’t become the Butcher of any other towns. Not after all Jaskier’s hard work repairing that reputation.</p><p>“My romantic adventures up to this point. None of them lasted long. Even the Countess was only a few years. Four years of my life, trying to be faithful to a faithless woman and one day of drinking and facing a djinn with you cured me of that love.”</p><p>“Jaskier.”</p><p>“If I could love and then unlove so easily,” Jaskier shook his head. “I can adore anyone I talk to and then strike up a new conversation and adore the new person just as much. I always think this is it, this is THE love. I will never feel anything stronger, never want another. And then another appears and… that all repeats itself with the new person. I loved her, gods I loved her. But if all of a sudden, years of love and desire dulls to a warmth no more than an ember, what does that mean? Am I so fickle in my affections that I’m not capable of loving just one person forever? How is that fair to you?” Jaskier ducked his head, fringe hiding his eyes. “I’m broken, aren’t I?”</p><p>“You,” Geralt said, “you said you have loved me since you were twenty.”</p><p>“Nineteen,” Jaskier corrected in a whisper.</p><p>Geralt took Jaskier’s hand and found it squeezed until it nearly hurt him, a crushing grip for a human. “Your father had a choice. A series of choices. He wasn’t overcome or fated to do anything. When presented with choices, he made the wrong ones. The ones he or your mother made then do not affect what you do now. My mother abandoned me to Witchers,” Jaskier’s startled eyes made Geralt realize he too had not been forthcoming with family history. “But I would fight every school and even my brothers before I would abandon Ciri. What our blood families did, does not have to affect what we do now with our own family. You say you have loved me over twenty years, despite others in your bed. Why would that love vanish suddenly now, when I am finally able to reciprocate it in full?”</p><p>Jaskier sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Wavering but not fully convinced.</p><p>Geralt got an idea. “I could buy you a new lute!”</p><p>Seemingly startled from his melancholia by the abrupt change of topics, Jaskier blinked before he frowned. “No, I don’t want a new lute. Why would you buy me a new lute?”</p><p>“The one you have is over twenty years old, isn’t it?” Geralt didn’t even wait for Jaskier’s confused nod. “You have used it and lived with it and carried it for all that time. It must be worth less now, right? Battered as it is. It’s been so long, why would you still want to keep it?”</p><p>“Because it’s my most prized earthly possession,” Jaskier looked torn between offence and confusion. “And all those years have only made it better, honestly. I know every little quirk of tuning it, every grain of the wood. Why in the world would I give that up for a new one?”</p><p>Geralt shrugged. “I’ve been saving, so I can buy you the finest lute coin can buy. It’s the logical choice, isn’t it? To prefer a new thing over an old one.”</p><p>Jaskier settled fully into offence. “I have loved that lute since the day I first held it. I wrote your first song with that lute. I know it as well as I know myself. No new,” he sneered the word, “instrument could possibly be better than one I have loved for over twenty…” he trailed off, shoulders dropping. “Ah.”</p><p>Geralt smiled and held out an arm for Jaskier to come and lean against his side.</p><p>“Your heart isn’t a fickle thing, Jaskier.” Geralt kissed his hair. “Your dick’s attention can wander, granted.”</p><p>Jaskier snorted and hit Geralt’s knee lightly with the back of his hand.</p><p>“But I bet you can remember the names of every person you’ve ever bedded.”</p><p>“Well, a handful I didn’t get the names of. Like that green-eyed barmaid in Kerrack. Or the ginger stablehand in Cidaris.”</p><p>Geralt laughed. “My point exactly. Your heart is steadfast, like you. Even for those it only loves briefly. I don’t worry you’ll cast me aside for another anymore than you would your old lute.”</p><p>Jaskier poked Geralt’s thigh a couple times. “I’m going to start expecting a lot more from you if you’re going to have bouts of emotional maturity like this, you know?”</p><p>“Fatherhood makes you wiser,” Geralt deadpanned. “It’ll catch up to you eventually. Give it time”</p><p>“Oi,” Jaskier said, smiling the most beautiful smile in the world at Geralt. He laid his forehead against Geralt’s. “I love you.”</p><p>“I love you too,” Geralt said, feeling more than seeing Jaskier’s smile widen even more. “I wish I hadn’t been so blind to that fact for so long.”</p><p>“It caught up to you eventually,” Jaskier laughed. He kissed Geralt, then did it again several more times. “I have,” another kiss, “to go write,” a kiss to his jaw, “that song,” his cheek, “now.”</p><p>Geralt nodded. “If you can work in a verse about the goat, I will eat you out for a solid thirty minutes tonight. I’ll set a timer and everything.”</p><p>Jaskier wheezed. “Gods, Geralt, you can’t just say that in public.” He shifted awkwardly on the bench.</p><p>“Here I thought middle aged men were more in control of their baser instincts.”</p><p>“Middle- middle aged! I am going to middle age man your arse in a minute,” Jaskier continued even when he saw Geralt’s mouth opening, “yes I’m doing the thing where I turn nouns into verbs again, shut it or you can eat my arse for a whole hour and I won’t even blow you at the end.”</p><p>Geralt raised an eyebrow. “I believe that’s called threatening someone with a good time.”</p><p>Jaskier laughed, taking one last kiss from Geralt. “I’m off to compose. Go find a timer and draw me a bath.” With a wink, he headed towards their room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Wanting And Needing And Loving</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's Marlia and Eskel's time for a deep talk. Again, the Witcher is the emotionally mature one. At least it's Eskel, so I am less shocked.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HERE BE TWO TRIGGER WARNINGS:</p><p>1. Brief reference to but not outright mention of suicide.<br/>If you want to skip that part, stop at "You've a scar?" and begin again at "Eskel kissed her forehead".</p><p>2. Mentions of sex and sexual acts<br/>The discussion of this takes up a lot of this chapter. I suggest stopping at whatever part you squicks you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eskel found Marlia pacing a trench into the floor of her room. Melody was in her crib, built by Eskel and Geralt while Jaskier, in his own words, ‘supervised’. Eskel paused to smile down at the sleeping babe before he approached her mother. “Marlia? Love, why are you so wound up?”</p><p>Marlia sighed and sat down heavily on the bed. “I’m sorry. I will apologize to Jaskier later. Once there’s a song.”</p><p>“I don’t need a song,” Eskel smiled. “I don’t care if you are the only person on the Continent who thinks me handsome. Your opinion is what matters to me, not theirs. If you think I’m handsome, then I must be.”</p><p>Looking up at him, there were tears in Marlia’s eyes as she said. “It’s unfair.”</p><p>Eskel frowned and moved to sit next to her. “What’s unfair, dearest?”</p><p>“People who…who think dust on the book jacket means there’s nothing inside worth reading. We all know dust on a bottle means it has aged to its finest vintage.” She checked he didn’t have his armor on (a habit born of having nicked herself on one too many of the shoulder spikes) and laid her head on his shoulder. “Scars mean you lived. Scars mean you were hurt, maybe very severely hurt, but you lived anyway.” She looked down. “It’s how I think about mine anyway.”</p><p>“You’ve a scar?” Eskel asked, immediately assessing her arms and throat and feet for old injuries. He saw one, very thin, on her wrist.</p><p>Marlia saw his look. “I was an… unhappy child. My family were wonderful and loving, but I was sent to boarding school when I was ten.” She darted her eyes away. “I knew I was… different. I hadn’t thought so around my family, but the other girls they sensed it somehow. What I am.”</p><p>Eskel kissed her forehead. “What did they think you were?”</p><p>“I don’t work right,” Marlia gestured to herself. “My body. I… I suspected it for ages and when Jaskier and I tumbled, it seemed confirmed.” She lifted her head and sighed, touching Eskel’s unscarred cheek as if for the last time. “I don’t like sex.”</p><p>“Well many men don’t bother to-“</p><p>“Oh you have heard of Jaskier’s reputation as well as I; I promise it’s deserved. He was very kind with me. Especially once I told him it was my first time. I felt pleasures when we were with each other, before and after the… main event. Nonetheless,” a blush coloured her cheeks. “I felt… nothing when he was inside me. No pain, don’t misunderstand me. But no pleasure either. It was just… something that was happening. I didn’t tell him,” she said when Eskel seemed about ready to go murder the bard on his feet. “I know, I am certain he would have stopped if I had. I pretended. I guessed what I was supposed to say, to sound like. Fooled him well enough. I thought it might… improve? I have heard stories of the sort of joys can that be found between lovers but I felt none during that act. I felt… nothing. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Eskel regarded her. “Why are you apologizing?”</p><p>Marlia drew her knees up and shifted to the other end of the bed. “Because I have led you on. I know that I have never cared much for sex. But you have been so patient and I have tested the boundaries because I didn’t want to lose you as I knew I would. Have.”</p><p>“Why would you lose me, dearest?” Eskel stretched a hand towards her on the bed, letting it rest just shy of touching her.</p><p>“Because I am broken!” Marlia shouted, scurrying up at once to the crib when Melody woke with a small cry. “Shh, my darling, rest now.” She began to sing on the songs Jaskier had composed for the little girl.</p><p>Eskel smiled at the sight. His heart felt full, watching the mother and daughter.</p><p>Marlia laid the baby back down once she calmed. Her face was wet though her voice hadn’t shaken as she sang. “I’m sorry, Eskel. I’m sorry I can’t be a… a proper woman for you.”</p><p>“Do you love me?” Eskel asked, for they had exchanged the words for the first time a few days ago. </p><p>“I think so.” Marlia said, eyes still on the floor, “I’ve never loved before, Eskel, not like this. Even with Jaskier that was more,” she gestured weakly with her free hand, “it felt nice to be admired. To be wanted. I definitely felt… something. A warmth, a want. But not love. I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know if this is love. I have no comparison I don’t even know that my… heart works right.”</p><p>Eskel stood and took her hand. “I think your heart is one of the rightest I have ever known.”</p><p>Marlia’s smile was small but sincere. “As far as I know how to love a partner, I feel all that and more for you. I think of you all the time and want you to smile always and would gladly stab anyone who ever made you feel like lesser because of some scars.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t have played such a rousing round of Catch The Bard if it wasn’t love, I don’t think,” Eskel smiled.</p><p>“But,” Marlia said, her hand squeezing Eskel’s, “I don’t know that I will ever want to have sex. I rarely ever even think to want it. I can’t ask that of you.”</p><p>Eskel nodded. “Tell me, you said,” he hesitated over the bard’s name as it was still tinged a little with envy in his mind,” you felt good before and after,” he smiled gently, “the main event?”</p><p>“Yes,” Marlia said. “I enjoyed his kissing. Kissing you is even better,” she ran a finger along the scar across his lips. “Though you mustn’t brag about that or Geralt will have to deal with a sulking fiancé.”</p><p>“You said you felt pleasures. What else did you find pleasurable?”</p><p>Marlia covered her face and took a deep breath. “He… he used his mouth on me. I’m sure you can guess the where. That felt… like I assumed how the main event would. Like I was at once floating and drawn like a bowstring. I came,” she rubbed her cheeks as if to wipe away the blush. “I came like that.” She lifted her head. “I didn’t even know people did that. Well, I know women take their men in their mouth sometimes, but that a man would…”</p><p>Eskel put his hands on her shoulders. “So you know that sex can mean things other than,” he searched for a word that was descriptive without being obscene, “penetration. I admit I enjoy that part of it, but I can live without it.”</p><p>That seemed to startle Marlia away from her timidity. “You can live without fucking?”</p><p>It took a mighty effort to not guffaw at how she covered her face to speak of being eaten out, but could say the crude word without a pause. “Dearest,” he drew her into his arms. “I don’t know who told you what sex was supposed to be, but I assure you sex isn’t supposed to be anything. Other than fun. It should always be fun.”</p><p>Her arms came up and wrapped about his back.</p><p>“You dislike a sexual act. Very well. We won’t do that sexual act. Or any.”</p><p>“But you shouldn’t miss out because of me,” Marlia protested.</p><p>Eskel drew back enough to kiss her forehead and her still hot cheeks. “There’s no missing out. You clearly enjoyed oral sex. I am only too too glad to provide you with that.”</p><p>Her cheeks hotted up again.</p><p>“We can explore, if you wish. Find what you do and don’t like. I would never make you do something you didn’t want.”</p><p>“I know,” Marlia said. “You’re the best man I have ever known.”</p><p>Eskel felt his heart thump harder, still slow for a human but a marked racing in a Witcher. “I love you,” he pulled back to look in her eyes as he repeated, “I love you. I will love you in whatever carnal ways you find pleasure in. I will love you if you never want to have sex ever.”</p><p>Marlia shook her head. “This,” she took a breath and smiled at him. “This is why you deserve a song. Several songs. An entire songbook full.”</p><p>“Well you’ve scared at least one song out of the boy, I’m sure,” Eskel laughed, pleased when she answered him with one of her own.</p><p>Marlia tilted up her head, hands cupping Eskel’s face, as she leaned in for a kiss.</p><p>Melody let out a little snuffling cry and they broke apart.</p><p>Eskel laughed and Marlia smiled, turning in his arms to pick up her daughter.</p><p>The baby giggled and waved her tiny fists.</p><p>Eskel caught one and kissed it. “Hello, princess. Have a good nap?”</p><p>Melody just giggled even more.</p><p>Marlia leaned back against the Witcher. “Eskel? What are the odds we can get Jaskier and Geralt to take Melody for the night?”</p><p>Frozen at the implication, he sighed against her shoulder. “Not good. Geralt’s best tactics for calming down one of Jaskier’s dramatic displays is not child friendly.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Marlia hummed, a little sad.</p><p>“Buuuuut,” Eskel smiled, “I think Ciri would be only too glad to have a princesses sleepover.”</p><p>Marlia grinned. “You have the best ideas. I love you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Distressingly Handsome Witchers Are Jaskier's Weakness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And now we're back to nothing but fluff and silliness. As it should be.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you know Welcome to Night Vale, I ask you to please imagine that Jaskier says "Valdo Marx" the same way Cecil says "Steve Carlsberg". Just often a lot louder of a hiss. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At dinner that night, Jaskier debuted a new song, praising Eskel’s looks and his bravery. It was tender and descriptive. Incredibly descriptive. Eyebrow-raisingly descriptive.</p><p>As they turned in for bed that night, Geralt looked over the papers Jaskier had written on. “Did Marlia help with this? With the words?”</p><p>Jaskier turned around, shirt off one arm and nearly over his head. “How dare you, Geralt. That is completely and utterly my own work. One hundred percent every word came from me. Unlike some people-“</p><p>Geralt sighed, knowing this tune, “Valdo Marx.”</p><p>“-Valdo Fucking Marx,” Jaskier hissed. “I do not need assistance to compose brilliance.”</p><p>"So, you think Eskel has fluffy pillow lips meant for kissing and a,” he checked the lyrics, “brawny back made for clutching to and a scarred cheek that should always be nuzzled. Those are all your own thoughts on him. You think all that about my brother? No one but you thought and then wrote down those words.”</p><p>Jaskier tossed his shirt to the floor in a huff. "OF COURSE, I told you I ...ah." He dropped his eyes and kicked at his shirt.</p><p>Geralt bit back his laughter and elected to feign a wounded sigh.</p><p>“Oh like you’re the only handsome Witcher in the world,” Jaskier put his hands on his hips. “My apologies that you brought me home to meet your family without warning me that you're all distressingly handsome! Even Vesemir-" </p><p>"If you say anything about my father being fuckable I swear to all your gods I will murder you." Geralt shook his head.</p><p>"Fair enough," Jaskier held up his hands as he washed his face in the basin. He muttered, low enough a human would haven’t heard it, “He totally is though.”</p><p>Geralt bit his lip to curtail the laughing and merely groaned.</p><p>"Well turn off your.... Witcher ears!"</p><p>The battle was lost and Geralt let out a body shaking laugh.</p><p>Jaskier pouted. “See if you get any tonight.”</p><p>Geralt raised an eyebrow and glanced at the bedside table.</p><p>There was an hourglass there.</p><p>Jaskier looked at it then up at Geralt then back again. “You make a convincing argument, darling.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title come from the The Amazing Devil song "Farewell Wanderlust" "I promise you I'm not broken/I promise you there's more"</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>